GONZALO:

I have a sweet little friend, who greets me every dawn,

A chirpy little blackbird, who welcomes in each dawn,

He sings outside my window, upon adobe rooftop tile,

Opening up my eyelids & producing sleepy sunny smile.

 

He´s a dapper little fellow, in onyx suit with yellow neb,

As he sings his songs, with respect, he nods his tiny head,

He serenades me in Spanish, beneath sunshine & in rain,

And he told me in his warbling, that Gonzalo was his name.

 

Gonzalo sang of butterflies, & worms, beneath the loamy soil,

And of olive groves down south, producing green & golden oil,

He sang of sad dead bulls, in bullrings, turning now to lowly dust,

And he told of dark eyed Don Juans, of their lost & unrequited lust.

 

Gonzalo sang of stories, where he´d been & where he´d still to go,

Singing in flamenco, within clicking notes, both high & mighty low,

Then he would fly about his day, taking with him, all my sorrows,

Promising that he would be back, to sing to me again tomorrow.